Date: Mon, 04 Oct 2004 21:04:53 -0400
From: T.K. Walters
Subject: All For Him, chapter 6
Hello, before you read the chapter below, I wanted to give a few character
profiles. I'll be adding on every now and then, probably whenever a major
character comes into the picture.
**********
CHARACTER PROFILES
Name: Nick Atkinson
Birthday: January 7
Astrological Sign: Capricorn
Blood Type: O
Favorite Color: Purple
Birthstone: Garnet
Starstone: Onyx
Hobby: Listening to music
Favorite Food: Tiramisu
Least Favorite Food: Liver
Favorite Subject: Business/Computer Classes
Worst Subject: Math
Has Trouble With: Insecurities
Strong Point: Romantic
--
Name: Pete Atkinson
Birthday: August 18
Astrological Sign: Leo
Blood Type: B
Favorite Color: Gold
Birthstone: Peridot
Starstone: Ruby
Hobby: Swimming
Favorite Food: Risotto
Least Favorite Food: Hotdogs
Favorite Subject: Physical Education
Worst Subject: Literature
Has Trouble With: Monogamy
Strong Point: Sex
--
Name: Jake Collins
Birthday: July 9
Astrological Sign: Cancer
Blood Type: A
Favorite Color: Silver
Birthstone: Ruby
Starstone: Pearl
Hobby: Guitar/Music
Favorite Food: Burgers/Deli meats
Least Favorite Food: Milk
Favorite Subject: Music
Worst Subject: Math
Has Trouble With: Keeping focus on anything
Strong Point: Loyalty
**********
Chapter Six
Dialing the number for the bakery, I sat and waited for the incessant
ringing to stop. When it did, a cheerful voice at the other end responded.
"Lori's Cakes and Pastries, can I help you?"
Taken aback from the sudden sugary goodness that had just been spit into
the phone and out my on my side, I stuttered. "Uh, yeah. Can I place an
order for a personalized cake for the 9th of, um, July?" I hesitated as I
momentarily forgot my best friend's birthday. Tapping on the table, I
noticed that the dining room was probably the best place to have the party.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the high-pitched woman said over the phone. "But for
personalized cakes, you must come to the store and choose the colors."
"Oh, really? Alright then. I`ll be there sometime today." I said
disappointed. I had much to do, and now I have to add another thing to my
never-ending list.
"Alrighty, sir. Have a good day, and sorry again."
"It's fine," I said as I clicked the phone off. Letting the stupid thing
go, the cordless phone dropped several inches, causing an audible crash.
Burying my face into my hands, I yelled, "Fuck!"
"Alright, let's do it!" Pete cried in a silly voice.
"We don't have time for that," I said back.
Lisping, he then said, "Silly goose, we have all the time in the world."
He held onto my shoulders. Using slight pressure, he tried to ease my
tension.
Just as it started to feel very good, I remembered that I still have to
check with three people to see what gift they're giving Jake. Shaking him
away, I said, "Stop that! You know I work better tensed."
"Quit stressing!" Pete laughed. "There's still two more weeks, unless you
suddenly drop dead, I think you'll have enough time to plan this party.
Now, drop the legal pad."
I was clutching on to it for dear life, the entire plan written in fine
bold print onto the yellow sheets. "No!" I said, with a child-like voice.
Being the tantrum baby, I tried to keep it away from him, tucked close to my
body.
"Nick," Pete said, drawing out the word so it lasted a couple seconds.
"Let it go."
Reaching out, he tried to grab the pad, but I jumped to the side, and he
missed. "I don't wanna!" Again, he looked at me with a warning glance. My
eyes tried to register all the sights around me, looking for anything I
could use to get around him, but he was directly in front of the entrance of
the dining room.
"Give it," he said, stretching out his palm. I made my move then, darting
to the back of the room, causing him to come chase after me--like I had
thought he would do. This created a free space between the entrance and me
and I ran like hell for it. I almost made it past two feet from the opening
when I bear-hugged by Pete. He had lifted me up by my waist, holding me
from behind. I screamed with laughter as he started to tickle what he could
with his fingers.
"Let me go!" I pleaded, straining with all my might to get away. Thrashing
slightly, I was given enough wiggle room to leap about three feet away from
Pete. I turned to face him and that's was when I realized that he had long
gotten the legal pad away from me. Waving it in my face, he taunted me.
"Fine," I pouted as I pulled my shirt down, trying to get the creases out.
"I will finish that even without the help of that goddamned notebook! You
can have it, but know this, I remember everything! You hear me?!" I paused
for effect, and then screeched out, "EVERYTHING!" I held fists in front of
my and shook them in a joking manner.
Pete laughed and threw the pad away. I started laughing, too, harder than
I have all week. I fell to my knees, on all fours, quaking with laughter
and Pete knelt down next to me, his hand on my shoulder. I could tell he
was in the same condition as I was, just impossibly unable to be released
from whatever amusement we took from my earlier exclamation. Once we
stopped laughing, I began to wonder what we found so funny, but the
occasional tremor of giggles kept me from fully analyzing the situation. I
rolled over to my back, laying down on the carpeted floor. I stared at the
ceiling.
"I needed that," I told Pete. He had done the same thing I did, his back
on the floor, his hand on my chest.
Pete patted my chest. "I know you did. You just need to calm down and
chill for a while. Take a day off, you've been stressing over this party
for over, what, three days? How much sleep have you gotten?"
"Between worrying about whether the presents will be acceptable, or that
this is okay with his father, or you always wanting sex, I don't even know
how much." I yawned as it came back to me when it was the last time I had a
good night's sleep. "I know it's much less than I need."
"Do you really think that?" Pete asked, switching to his side. Resting his
head on his palm, he asked, "Do I really keep you awake just for sex?"
Pete looked slightly hurt from what I had said so I tried to explain it
better. "Oh, don't think of it like that!" I objected. "Its nothing like
that. I like doing it, but sometimes it does cut into my schedule."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try to limit it to twice a week."
I scoffed in shock. "What?! Are you insane? Just because I don't sleep
over it, doesn't mean I wanna slow it down." Coyly, I grinned. "In fact .
. ." I began to tug at his shirt, lifting it slightly above his navel. He
helped me get it off all the way. Unbuttoning his khaki shorts, he took it
off with his boxers. We both stayed on the floor, the carpet soft enough to
not cause any burns. I had no inhibitions at the moment, and went straight
for his dick, lodging the head deep in my throat and sucking it hard.
"Uhh," he said breathlessly. "I like that." He placed his hand on my head
and guided me down until my nose nestled into his pubic hair. The slight
musky smell that came from the best of his shaft was tickling my nostrils
and causing my own dick to grow in my pants. As I pulled of slightly, Pete
took his hand off my head and let me do what I wanted. I kissed the shiny
dickhead, a mixture of my saliva and his precum coating every inch. An eye
staring at me, it cried as I licked the rim.
"Can I try to save some of your precum?" I asked him.
"What?" Pete asked, laughing slightly. He sat up and held his dick in his
right hand, his other stroking mine through my shorts.
"I want," I said slowly, "to save . . . your precum."
Pete looked at me funnily and then squeezed his dick so he caught some
precum in-between his thumb and index finger. "Like, in a jar?"
"No! I mean, just gather it to see how much will be made." I held his
hand and licked the precious fluid away. Clear and sticky, I thought that
it was much better than cum in some ways. It was less filling.
"How'd we do that?" Pete asked, repeating what he did before. When he had
the precum on his hand, he sucked it off himself.
After thinking about it for a minute, I said, "I think your jar idea
wouldn't be that bad."
We laughed and stood up. Leading the way to the kitchen, Pete started to
undress me along the way. I was naked by the time we found a small, clean
jar that we could use. It was about the size of a nail polish bottle. We
mainly used it and the like for spices and herbs.
"Wanna do this in the bedroom?" Pete asked.
"It's too far," I explained. "Let's just do it back in the conservatory."
I ran to the room, adjacent to the living room, my dick flopping up and
down as my feet hit the ground. We weren't hard when we got there, but our
dicks were definitely hot and heavy in each other's hands. "Get on the
floor," I told him. It was carpeted just like the living room, so no burn
marks.
Pete followed orders and laid down on his back. I uncorked the bottle, and
gave it to him. "Hold this here," I said, pushing his dick toward his
abdomen. "And this, just put under the head." As he settled down, his dick
started to get hard. His thumb kept stroking the underside and a small glob
of precum would ooze out and drip straight into the bottle.
I smiled and got on the carpet, face down. I separated his legs and got
between them. Taking his balls into my mouth, I tried to keep him really
turned on without making him cum. Five minutes later, the bottle was
halfway full.
"Wanna stop now?" he asked.
I pushed his balls out of my mouth with my tongue. "No, let's keep going
until the bottle's full." I licked the base of his shaft all the way to his
pinky. He did the rest, pushing the precum out of the tube of flesh and
into the bottle. I placed my hands on his thighs and began to massage them.
It was surprising, the inside part was so much softer than the muscle on
the outer thigh. That's when I thought of something.
"Pete?" I asked in that squirrelly voice.
"Hmm?" he asked. He was very focused on his dick and creating precum.
"Can I?" To make my point, I pushed his legs slightly apart. He looked at
me like I had gone insane.
"Are you sure you want to?"
"Why? Is there any reason I shouldn't?"
"No! I just meant, well, are you sure you want to?"
"It's okay if you don't want me too, I can just--"
"No!" he cried. Then he laughed, "I'd love you to. But if you want to
stop, just stop. If it's not your thing, you don't need to continue it."
"Okay," I said, grinning heavily. Getting on my side, I pushed his legs
farther apart. The moment I saw his asshole, I inhaled deeply. In the pit
of my stomach, I felt that raking that I get when I'm incredibly turned on.
Dusty pink, it was the only part of his body that wasn't tanned. I grew
slightly apprehensive when the moment came, but leaned forward.
Surprisingly enough, there was no scent that scared me there. What scents
there was were the ones that came from his dick, which increased the beating
on my heart and hardon.
Placing my middle finger on my lips, I slathered the tip with saliva. I
placed it on his entrance. Pete let out a deep breath. "It's been a long
time since someone's touched me there," he explained. "If you're gonna do
that, don't push yet. Just rub around it for now."
Following the starburst pattern, I wet the blond hair that was there. They
were almost invisible when dry, but as they matted with my saliva, they
turned a slight golden color. Pete took in another harsh breath, and I knew
I was doing the right thing. With my other hand I stroked his dick along
his hand. What I really wanted to do was to tweak his nipples but in the
position I was in, it would've be very difficult and uncomfortable.
Besides, he was really loving the action that was happening on his asshole
because more and more precum filled the bottle.
"I should've brought another," I said.
Pete looked at me dazed, wondering what I was talking about probably.
"It's almost full."
"Oh," he said softly, before closing his eyes. The finger on his asshole
felt his concentration because when I touched the hole, he hissed in deeply
and I felt it clutch at my probing finger. Half an inch went into him and a
centimeter's worth of precum fell into the container, completing the bottle.
"It's finished," I whispered to him. I didn't want to be loud; he looked
so into whatever feelings he was experiencing. I retracted my finger and
took hold of the bottle and his dick. "Pete," I said, "it's full." I sat
down, cross-legged.
"Look at that," he said, sitting up the same way. "Let me see it."
I gave it to him and he proceeded to look at it through the light that came
from the windows. "It's a lot, isn't it?" he asked, apparently amazed at
his own product.
"Yeah, only took ten minutes."
"Looks like, at least, three tablespoons in there," he said, smiling at me.
"Now, what're you planning to do with it?"
I took the bottle from him and stopped the top. "I don't know." We both
laughed at that. "Okay, so I guess I didn't think about this thoroughly.
What do you think we should do with it?"
"Well, you've gotten me all worked up," Pete said, "and now we have a
bottle of my own lube." He pulled me close so we were face to face, knees
to knees, and forehead to forehead. In our mental communication, Pete said,
`Let's go upstairs. I have something I want to do with you.'
I leaned back, my eyes growing big on what I had inferred. Pete smiled and
then stood up. He reached his hand out to me. "Trust me," he said.
I looked up, the light from the windows causing an eerie glow around him.
To the ends of the earth, I would follow him; I knew that. There was no way
I couldn't trust him, so I took his hand. Like a couple of lovebirds, we
held both our hands together as we walked out of the conservatory, up the
stairs, and into his room; Pete kissing my neck all the while.
I longed for his touch when he placed me on his bed and began searching in
his closet. For what, I didn't know or ask. I watched him as he bent over,
moving clothes out of the way as he determinately looked for whatever was so
important. Every part of his was tanned, and with every movement, he
flexed.
"Ah-ha!" Pete said as he stood straight. He turned around and showed me a
tube, the shape of a toothpaste tube. "I thought I threw all of them away.
That was lucky."
"What was?" I asked, waiting patiently as he stood too far away for me to
reach.
"That I don't keep clothes in the closet," he said. "Else I would've
thrown this away."
"Oh," I said, not knowing exactly what he was holding. Finally, he came to
me and I was able to touch him again. It was almost gut-wrenching the time
he was away from my fingertips.
We laid down on the bed, which more comfortable than the floor downstairs.
Pete was on the right, on his side, holding his head on his palm, his elbow
steadying his body. I next to him, a little lower on the bed. I had to
look up to see his face. Pete put the tube on the nightstand, but brought
back a bottle of lavender-scented lotion. I knew what it was because we
used it a lot when all we did was jerk each other off. Pete placed it next
to his dick, leaving it there for the moment. He stroked my forehead,
touching my hairline once or twice before he said, "Can you get on your
front?"
Since I had already gave inclinations that I trusted him, I did it without
saying a word. Now that I was facing down, I couldn't see what he was
doing. But when I felt him straddle my thighs, and the unmistakable sound
of the top of the lotion opening, I tensed.
"Calm down," Pete said, "dirty mind. I'm not gonna do that." Suddenly, my
back was cold from the squirt of lotion. I tensed, again, but this time it
was because of the change in temperature. "Cold?" he asked.
"Yeah," I whispered, "but it's heating up." When Pete's hands were on my
shoulders, I loosened up. Lavender wafting around the room, I relaxed
substantially. Strong and forceful, Pete worked all the knots in my
shoulders--which were insanely countless--before moving down. He touched
the small of my back, but used more gentle pressure.
"Feel good?" Pete asked.
"Mm-hmm," I answered sleepily.
"If you want to sleep, just do it, `kay?"
"No," I told him. "I don't wanna sleep. There's too much I have to do."
As soon as I said that, Pete started kneading my ass, separating them
slightly. "Alright, I'll wake you up if it does happen, `kay?"
"Mm-hmm," I repeated, before I fell completely in slumber.
__________
I opened my eyes slowly, Sleep's mischievous hands still covering them.
Fluttering them, I forced myself to awaken. Inhaling deeply, I turned to my
side. For a split second I saw that it was already night. It didn't
register until a few seconds later, when my eyes burst open and I screamed
out, "NO!"
I quickly ran out of Pete's room, into mine, and grabbed some clothes. I
put them on as I ran down the stairs, calling out, "Pete?! Why didn't you
wake me up? Pete?!" I groaned, my body still not used to the sudden need
of energy. I hadn't eaten all day.
Flipping the light switch on in the foyer, I called out again. "Pete?!
Are you home?"
As soon as I stepped into the living room, I heard the clanging of Pete
cooking. "Yeah, I'm in the kitchen!" he yelled. The smell hit me next,
garlic and shrimp. He must've been making pasta, as we both loved pasta
with any kind of seafood.
When I made it into the kitchen, I saw Pete wearing an apron, hand holding
tongs, and mixing the pasta with the sauce, which was made up of mainly
shrimp. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked meekly. I was too tired to
fight and the smell of his cooking caused me to drop more of my anger.
"You needed to sleep," he said, not looking at me. He was too busy plating
the food. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about much these next few days.
I've done everything on your list. But I didn't know what one thing meant.
You really have to learn to write better." Pete pointed to the end of the
kitchen's island and I saw the notepad. Everything was checked off, but the
one about checking up with everyone's presents, which I knew wouldn't take
that long as Jake's not that picky.
"Cool," I said, quite surprised that he did that.
"You're welcome," he said. Then he threw me a dish towel. "Here, get the
bread from the broiler."
"You cooked bread?" I asked.
"Yeah, now go get it before it burns."
As I approached the oven, I smelled toasting bread. I realized what he was
doing and immediately took the bread out from the oven. Turning around, I
given a whole garlic head. I took a knife that was on a wooden cutting
board and cut the head in half, coverings and all. While the bread was
still warm, I scraped the garlic across both sides of the toasted bread.
Placing them into the bread bowl, I brought them to the kitchen table, where
we normally ate every night since Mom and Dad left.
"You know what?" Pete asked. "Let's do this right. How `bout it? A fancy
dinner?"
"It's up to you," I told him.
"Yeah, let's do it. Bring what you can to the table. I'll go get some
candles."
When we got everything set up--the food plated, the candles lit, and soft
music playing in the background--I felt slightly weird about this. This is
what Pete would do with his girlfriends, not me.
"So," I started, "thanks for doing earlier. I didn't know I was that
tired."
"You're welcome," Pete said. He took a deep breath and then picked up his
fork and we started to eat.
The conversation we had during dinner was altogether normal. We talked
about what our mutual friends are up to, the books we were assigned during
the summer, and the television and movies that we think that the other would
like to watch.
An hour passed--the main course finished--and it was time for the main
reason of eating: dessert. Pete stood up and I tried to follow but he made
me sit back down. "I can get it myself, but if you want to do something, go
get a bottle of rose from Dad's ration. Don't touch Mom's because she
really gets touchy about those."
I nodded and did as he said. I chose a nice vintage rose, from about five
years ago. Pete was already at the table when I got back, and he tossed me
the bottle opener. As I pierced the wax and cork, I saw what kind of
dessert he had made. Zuccotto, a type of creamy chocolate, whip cream, and
brandy cake that's shaped as an inverted bowl.
After I poured the wine into our glasses, the conversation began to change.
"So," Pete said, picking at his food and looking at me through his hair,
"have you decided about whether or not you're gonna do it? You know, the
party?"
"I haven't really thought about it yet," I told him sincerely. "I've just
been too busy. Do you really need an answer now?"
"Do you think it'll affect your decision if you take another week to
decide?"
"I don't know," I answered. "It might, but I can't say exactly whether
it'll be good or bad."
"Well," he said, "by all means, take the week. But I need to hear what you
have to say on it by next Friday, alright?"
I nodded. We ate in silence after that. I felt too weird.
__________
Later that night, as we started to undress for bed, Pete startled me with a
sudden gasp. "Oh, shit! I almost forgot." He left my room and ran to his.
I followed him, but when I got to my door, he rushed back in, almost
toppling over me. He was holding a small black bag with him.
"I got this earlier," he said. "I was looking for a right time to give it
to you, but I totally forgot about it until now."
I took the bag from him and pulled out a small jewelry box. Inside it was
a necklace, a duplicate of Pete's, with a Lambda pendant. It was an almost
exact copy, since mine has his name and his has mine and Kevin's.
"Wow," I said, amazed that he had actually included me in the same rank as
Kevin. I reached around him, bringing him in a tight embrace and then
kissing his cheek. "Thank you."
"What?!" Pete cried with a smile. "After that, I only get that and a thank
you? Where's the love I was expecting?"
That's when I pounced him, putting my whole body weight (a mere 130) on
his. We were face to face and I kissed him deeply on the lips, savoring the
feel of his tongue in my mouth.
We broke breathless, foreheads touching. "Now that's what I was looking
for," Pete said.
I got off him and soon got into the bed, the necklace safely in it box on
my dresser. Feeling quite virile, I instigated the night's sin by spooning
him, instead of the other way around. Holding Pete's dick in my hand, I
tried to get him hard. He already was halfway there when I first touched
it, so it didn't take long. I kept track of its progress as it grew. First
it got heavier, more full with blood and thicker but still pliable. Then it
lengthened, but again, still not hard. But after it lengthened to his right
length, it got even thicker and the head doubled in size. When it started
to throb, I knew I succeeded.
"Pete, what is this," I asked innocently before I moved and pushed him onto
his back. "Hey, look at that," I said, looking at the tent made by the
gossamer sheet. "Big brother, how are you doing that?"
Pete was definitely getting off on it because when I plunged my hand back
to his dick, precum was dribbling down like crazy. "Oh, little brother, you
shouldn't be playing with that," he said.
Ignoring his statement, I rubbed the drooling slit, smearing the fluid
around. "Why not?"
"Because people will get very mad if they find out," he said.
Inwardly, I stopped since we've never talked about this before. What would
happen if people found out about us? As soon as that thought came into my
mind, it went away. The wine that we had earlier--three glasses each--had
me doing this in a fog.
"How would they know?" I asked.
"I don't know," Pete answered.
Suddenly, I said, "Look, it's happening to me too!" We were both on our
backs, the sheet covering ourselves, our erections creating tents. I tend
to get very stupid when I drink. I held onto both our dicks, gyrating them
counterclockwise, under the covers.
"You're drunk, aren't you?" Pete asked.
"Aye, quite verily," I said in an accent.
"Then, you'll probably get no progress with your dick," Pete explained.
"You'll cum, alright, but it'll take hours and would most likely not be all
that great. Though it should teach you how to hold back for a while. So,
you wanna do this?"
"Oh, yes," I said, seductively, running my hand down his chest. "I would
most like that, big brother." I kept using that term because it made Pete
shiver in that tone. He was definitely getting off on it.
Throwing the covers off of us, I changed positions and straddled his
stomach. Since we ate a while ago, approximately four hours ago, we both
had no problems with me staying on him like that. I could feel his dickhead
leaking on the small of my back. Leaning forward, I pecked at his lips
before grazing his bottom lip with my teeth. Pete moaned and tried to kiss
my directly but I moved my head away.
"Uh-uh-uh," I said, shaking my head. "Tsk-tsk-tsk. You wouldn't want
people to know you tongue fuck your brother's mouth, now do you?" His eyes
shown that he was afraid that I would do just that. How little does he know
me?
Cheek to cheek, I whispered in his ear, "Does that scare you? Are you
afraid of what I'll do?" I snickered maliciously. Going closer to his
hair, I took a deep breath behind his ear. My tongue leeched out and bathed
his earlobe, before I nipped at it once.
Pete groaned and put his hands on my chest. "That hurts," he informed,
though I didn't listen.
Following his jaw line, I licked from the back of his ear to his chin, up
to his lips and finally kissed him fully on his mouth. Pete moved his hands
and wrapped his arms around my upper back. His hands moved up to the back
of my head and he tried to gain control of the situation, again.
I broke the kiss immediately. "Just let it go, Pete," I whispered.
"Why?"
"I trust you; just trust me," I said.
Pete nodded and dropped his hands. Finally getting him into submission, I
smiled at him and he smiled back. Then, a thought came to my head and I
jumped off him and went to get a handkerchief. I flipped the light switch
so I could see better. Blindfolding him, and returning back to my earlier
position, I began to touch him again. First, I ran the balls of my fingers
on his nipples, getting them hard and pointy. I shifted my butt down to his
crotch. This brought my mouth right on his right nipple. Lashing at it
with my tongue, I washed the little nub in my saliva. Pete's upper lip
started to rise in a sort of half scream/half smile. I repeated it on his
left nipple and got the same effect.
After a while, Pete raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head.
This entered a new place of Pete that I have not yet touched, his underarms.
What surprised me was, unlike the hair on his head or on his crotch, this
hair was slightly darker, a sort of sandy blond. Carefully, I touched the
outer parts of his armpit--because I knew he was almost as ticklish as I
was--feeling the silky hairs. They sure felt just like his pubic hair,
course but soft.
"Ah," he whimpered. "That's tickling."
Smiling, I gnawed at his nipple.
"Ah," he repeated, this time touching my shoulder. "That's biting!"
"How observant," I said. "Now, shut up!"
"Just tell me what you're gonna do before you do it, so I can prepare
myself!" he ordered. "You don't know how hard it is under this blindfold."
I reached around me and touched his profusely leaking and excruciating
thumping dick. "I know how hard it is," I said. I stroked it twice and on
the third time, I squeezed it tightly from the base all the way up. A giant
gob of precum followed all the way up to the tip and fell on my ass,
touching my asshole. I liked the feeling, so I did it again.
Pete was in his own world, moaning and groaning. I realized quickly that
he mustn't have came earlier. The first time his dick touched my asshole, I
flinched. I didn't know what to do. I was already slick from his clear
lube, but could I really do that? As I tried it, pain hit me instantly and
I was just trying to position it in.
Pete knew what I was doing because he said, "You'll just end up hurting if
you try that again. We'll save that for when you're a little older, `kay?
I might be too big for you."
"Shh!" I hissed. After thinking about it, I realized that he was right. I
took his dick away with my hands and moved down so it and I were face to
face. It was a while since we've actually had sex when the lights were on,
so I took complete advantage of the sight of my small hands gripping his
dick; my fingers barely wrapped around it. My mouth salivated when I pushed
precum up his dick, out the slit, and onto my tongue. Pretending it was a
thick straw, I wrapped my mouth around the head and tried to suck more
precum out by stroking the slit with my tongue. Soon my whole mouth was
covered with more of his juice than my spit, and Pete was loving every
minute of it. Pete's moans enticed me to go further and I sank his pole
right into my mouth. Every inch that entered caused him to go up a pitch
before he was basically wailing.
Taking out of my mouth for a second, I asked, "Am I doing this right?",
even though I already knew that I was. Pete had taught me very well and I
could bring him off now in less than five minutes if needed.
"Uh-huh," Pete said breathlessly. His hand started to search for my head,
first where his dick was pointing to, then his stomach, and he finally found
it when I moved forward. Tangling his fingers carefully in my hair, he
pushed me down until I was nose deep into his newly trimmed
crotch--intoxicated by his scent.
Using the back of my throat to massage his lodged dickhead, I bobbed my
head an inch. I tried to find a comfortable position with this but as
anyone who had ever given head knew, this was not an easy task to do for a
long period of time. I settled for a few seconds before pulling off all the
way and licking his dickhead before repeating the process. It couldn't have
been more than two minutes before Pete gave up on my hair and was fisting
the sheets, trying his hardest not to force me down on his dick and fuck my
face into oblivion. Occasionally, his hands would touch my head, but never
forced me to do anything. It got really annoying so the next time he had
done it, I grabbed his hands and made him do push my head into him. Pete
got the idea and began to fuck my mouth. Each time, each stroke, I breathed
on his out thrust.
When he started cumming, he increased his speed so I had no chance to
breathe, less than try to help the gallon of cum move straight into my
gullet. When he began to pull me off, his dick was still shooting a
continuous, thin line of cum. This fell out of my mouth and dropped right
into his pubic hair. I kissed the head and sucked off the little glob that
formed at the tip.
"Ah!" he yelped.
I laughed. "Sensitive?" Before he could answer, I licked and scraped it
with my teeth.
"Ah!" he repeated, "yes, yes!"
Finally releasing his dick, I began to take off the blindfold. "Welcome
back," I told him.
Pete was smiling, but wasn't looking at me in the eye. I looked down to
where he was staring, and saw that my dick was fully soft and I felt like I
had cummed with him and was as drained as he appeared.
"Huh," I said, "look at that." I moved my flaccid dick around like it was
a dangling worm trying to get away from it's captives. It wouldn't stand
up. "Think I'm going impotent?" I asked.
Pete laughed and said, "No. Do you still want me to?"
"Nah," I answered. "It would be a waste of time if he doesn't wanna pay
attention. Can we just go to bed?"
"Yeah," Pete said. "And maybe in the morning, we'll check on it again just
to make sure nothing's wrong."
I knew he was joking, so I immediately flopped into bed, exhausted by the
blow job. "Sleep sweet, Pete." It was the last thing I remember saying
before blacking out.
**********
To Be Continued
Send all thoughts, critiques, or grammar changes to the address above.
Thanks for taking the time to read this story. I know it's not exactly the
best story ever, but I'm trying. I do get points for that, right? Well, I
hope you aren't too harsh. And again, thanks.
-MKP